Leaving My Life Behind
by detective-sweetheart
Summary: ...I was looking at the eleventh floor, and thinking that I'd left my life behind, but at the same time, I really hadn't.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Completely random. I had a few writing prompts I wanted to answer, and somehow, this turned into a multi-chaptered fic. Could be considered missning scenes for On Fire, if you care to look hard enough. CI's not mine. **

* * *

I had been counting down since I'd first heard that I was being summoned by Internal Affairs. I'd known that it was only a matter of time, but didn't know exactly what that meant until it finally hit me that short of losing the squad, the only punishment the brass would see fit for what I had supposedly done to save my detective was to force me out. But, of course, they weren't going to make it look like they were forcing me out. Pretty much what I was told was that I could stay if I wished, but I probably wasn't going to like what would happen if I did. The art of threatening someone without _really_ threatening them.

I went inside, not surprised to see that most of the lights were off, except for the one over the stove, because that one was almost always on at night. I didn't hear anything, and was under the impression that whoever was there was asleep, but footsteps told me I was wrong.

"Thought that might've been you," said Angie's voice, and I looked up from where I sat, taking off my shoes. There she was, standing in the kitchen doorway, in one of my shirts and a pair of shorts that came to her knees. I had the feeling they belonged to one of the girls rather than to her, but it didn't matter.

"I didn't wake you coming in, did I?" I asked, glancing at the clock as I did. Eleven-thirty. Relatively early, given my recent reluctance to leave the squad room. Angie shook her head.

"No," she said. "I was already awake." But she yawned, and it was this that gave her away. I knew she'd been asleep, and that she didn't want me to know, because she didn't want me to feel guilty, but in all honesty, I didn't. As much as I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, I'd been hoping she'd come down. I said nothing and she spoke again.

"So, how goes it with the hierarchy?"

As if she really wanted to know. I felt guilty, thinking this, because it figured that she'd ask, she always did. And usually, I told her. This time, however…it was almost different, and it bothered me, because it shouldn't have been. Of course, the only reason it was different this time was because I was the one who was in for it, whatever 'it' was, but there we had it.

"It goes unknown," I said, finally. "I doubt any of us are going to find out what happens until it's actually happening."

Angie rolled her eyes. "Figures," she said, and then, "I want coffee." She walked over to where the coffee pot was and set about making it. I shook my head at her.

"It's this close to midnight, and you want coffee," I said. "You're never going to go back to sleep, you know."

"I wasn't particularly intending on going back to sleep, honestly," said Angie, and then, "Damn, you did it again."

"I already knew you'd been sleeping; you yawned right after telling me you were already awake," I replied dryly. "You don't fool me."

"Sure I don't." She turned and leaned back against the counter. Silence fell for a moment before she spoke again.

"So it goes unknown," she said, parroting my earlier remark. "Do I want to know?"

Hell, _I _didn't even want to know. I didn't want to think about it, either, but she'd asked, and I'd answered, without thinking, because somewhere along the line, we'd discovered that it was useless to hide anything from each other. Of course, this was probably because we'd both been cops once upon a time, and had found out everything anyway, whether from the rumor mill or our partners, so it hadn't mattered. In any case, there was no getting out of the conversation now.

"Switch on the radio, will you?" I asked, finally, in what I knew she would see as an attempt to change the subject. "It's too quiet in here."

"I'm talking and it's too quiet in here," said Angie, eyeing me intently for a long moment before shaking her head. "Who are you and what've you done with my partner?"

"I haven't done anything," I said, and meant it in the context in which she'd asked, and in a departmental sense, too. "I'm sitting right there in front of them, and they're acting like I'm not there. What the hell is that, anyway?"

"Of course they're going to act like you're not there," Angie said dryly. "They don't want it to appear like they condone whatever it is that they think you've done, which would be….?"

She trailed off, leaving it a question, the way I'd known she would. She'd also left the radio on, which gave me a perfect excuse to make like I hadn't heard her, but I wasn't going to do that.

"They're all convinced that I paid someone off to keep Logan out of hot water with IAD, and now we're all into it, or rather, they would be if IAD hadn't decided to come after me."

She stared at me. I hadn't told her that much, only that I was into it with the hierarchy, again, which wasn't exactly new. I hadn't mentioned anything about IAD, and apparently, no one else had, either. I was actually mildly surprised by this, given the fact that it had always seemed before that she knew what was going on before I did. Once again, things were different.

"Well," she said finally, "Guess a few people forgot to mention a few things." She glanced towards the coffee pot and sighed. "This thing takes forever."

That it did. I was almost wishing that there was a way to make it hurry up, but I knew there wasn't. And I knew that there wasn't a way to make any of this go away, either. It wasn't that I was afraid of facing whatever would be handed down, but the fact that it would be handed down for no reason bothered the hell out of me.

"I don't get it," I said. "I mean, I do, but at the same time, I don't. It feels like a setup, but I can't for the life of me figure out why."

"Let's think," said Angie, half-joking. "Who out there would wanna screw you over like this?"

There was an easy answer to this question. I looked away. "Let's not go there," I said, and there was silence again. The radio filled the empty space until I spoke again. "You know, I'm almost thinking I don't want to know what's going to happen."

"You think it could go that far?" Angie asked, and I knew that she knew what I'd meant, even without my elaborating.

"Yeah, I think it could go that far. I'm hoping it doesn't, but it's always a possibility. Suppose the only good thing that can really come of this is that when it's over, I'll be able to say whatever I want about the hierarchy and not have to get yelled at for it."

She laughed. "Yeah, I suppose you could say that's a good thing, but it doesn't exactly tip the scales."

It didn't and I knew it, and so did she. There wasn't much that could tip the scales from one side for another. If it went the way I was starting to think it would, then…A mug of coffee appeared in front of me, and Angie sat down in the empty chair across from where I was.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked, taking a sip from her own mug. "You can't just stand there and let them throw this mess at you."

"I know that. But there isn't much else I can do about it, either. Let's just say that the hierarchy might actually get their way for once when it comes to the eleventh floor."

"I'd smack you for that one, but I'm feeling too lazy to move. They're not going to get their way unless you let 'em have it. And honestly, I don't see that happening."

"You're the stubborn one, not me. I might fight with them, but I'm hardly one to actually stand in the way when they're determined to do something."

"And if they're determined to shove you out of Major Case? Then what?"

I hadn't thought about it. Had been determined not to think about it, to the point where I'd have stayed in the squad room all night, if it weren't for the fact that I'd have looked like a hypocrite after ordering the detectives home. And now, I was thinking about it, and I wanted nothing more than to forget it all. Come morning…technically, it was already morning, but that was beside the point. In a few hours, I'd be back in front of the lot of them, and I had other things to worry about, and they knew it, but of course, they didn't particularly care.

"I don't know," I said. "I didn't think about it. In fact, I don't _want_ to think about it. Suppose you could say that I always figured it'd be the squad I retired with."

The irony of my words hit me as soon as I shut up. Sure, I had figured they'd be the ones I retired with, and now, more than ever, it seemed like that would be the way it went. Angie seemed to notice that I'd figured this out, because she abandoned her own mug, rose to her feet, and tugged me to mine.

"Dance with me," she said, in such a way that left no room for argument. I rolled my eyes.

"You know, for someone who hates formal events and the like, you sure as hell like poking me into this in the middle of the night."

"Someone's not a morning person." Angie nodded towards the clock, as if I hadn't noticed what time it is. "It's past midnight."

"I'm aware of that."

"Then you're also aware that this isn't just something you can walk away from."

"Why on earth would I want to walk away from you?"

"That's not what I meant. You can't avoid this. Suppose they're trying the theory of threatening someone without actually outright doing it?"

"You know the department too well."

"I know you too well. You wouldn't be like this if they hadn't pulled a stunt like that. If you want me to go tell 'em off, I will."

"I think you'd only make things worse, honestly."

"They could do with getting hell from someone on the outside every now and then."

"Well, sure they can, but that doesn't mean you've got to be the one to do it. You're retired, remember?"

"That would be why I said they'd be getting it from the outside. They can't jam you for something you haven't done."

"You'd be surprised." I'd heard the evidence they thought they had. I'd even seen the one cop they'd said I'd paid off, which honestly, the whole thing was almost funny, because I'd never met the kid before, and here they were, trying to screw me over because of something they _thought_ had happened.

"I'd love to know who the hell they think they are, anyway," said Angie, obviously not noticing that I was only half-listening to her now. "I mean, maybe you're not being paranoid, and this _is_ a setup. You'd think they'd be able to see it."

"If they cared to…well, never mind. I don't want to start that debate. All I know right now is that it doesn't look good, and I doubt it's going to get better."

"At least tell me they've thought to talk to your detectives about this. They'd know what was going on better than anyone else."

"I'm inclined to think that you'd know what was going on with me better than anyone else."

"Well, sure, but they're not gonna talk to me, now are they?"

"If they've talked to the squad, I don't know, and they're not likely to tell me. Do we still have to talk about this?"

Somewhere along the line, the song had changed, but neither of us had moved from where we were. Angie glanced up at me, and sighed.

"No," she said, finally. "No, we don't have to."

I didn't answer. Silence fell, and lasted, broken only by the music, until we finally went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Another bit of random, useless information: this was only supposed to be three chapters, but somehow, three turned into six,because my muse likes to get carried away. **

* * *

The next day, I went upstate. I didn't tell anyone where I was going, because I didn't want to face the questions, and I didn't want to deal with them, either. So I went, informing Goren and Eames and Carver, who was there as well, that I'd be gone for the rest of the day, even though it didn't take that long to get to where I was going.

Frank looked different when I saw him, not that I'd particularly expected him to look the same. I was halfway tempted to comment that orange wasn't really his color, the way one of the others might have, but I didn't, and he sat, and stared at me for a long moment before saying something about true friends. I fought the desire to roll my eyes at him.

"You put yourself in here."

And he had, too, and it figured that he'd do something about it, because somewhere along the line, things had changed.

"…took me down, you shook a lot of good cops. Made it harder for them to stick their necks out. Thought you could get some uniform to take the fall for you…" He leaned forward, and went on. "You really think you're worth that, Jimmy?"

I didn't know how to answer him, other than any number of sarcastic comments that had suddenly materialized in the back of my mind, so I stared back at him for a long moment, and then shook my head.

"I hardly think that's up for me to determine," I told him. "I'd be inclined to say that saving my own career isn't worth watching someone else lose theirs. Can't say the same for you."

"Why'd you bother coming up here, then?"

It was a good question. I didn't know. Maybe it was because I'd wanted a way to make myself believe that it was actually real, that he was behind glass, and technically speaking, I wasn't. Or maybe it was to prove something, though whatever that something was, I didn't know.

"You're not exactly in a position to ask why I do what I do. Maybe before, but not now." It felt almost strange now, knowing that once, in years long past, I'd actually looked up to him, and now…well, now, I wasn't looking down, but I wasn't looking up, either. It was somewhere in between.

"You wouldn't have come if you didn't have a reason."

"Maybe I just came to see you as you are now. Ever think that might be a reason?" Sarcasm had made its way into my voice, and now that it was there, it didn't want to leave. "Never figured you to be one so easily influenced by others. Guess I was wrong."

"You're the one who's been bending over and taking it from the brass. Not me. Let's not go there."

"I haven't taken anything from anyone, and I'm sure as hell not going to take it from you. You should've thought about what you were doing."

"Could say the same for you."

"I haven't done anything, and you know I haven't. What is it that made you want to do this, anyway? The fact that you went and screwed yourself over, and now you're looking for someone to fall with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course not."

And it figured, that he'd sit there and deny knowing anything, even when he knew damn well that he was behind it. It figured that he'd look me in the eye, and lie, because it's what he'd done before.

"Was it worth it?" I asked, finally. "Walking out on everything, and everyone, for a one-night stand? I don't give a damn whether or not it was more than that, either, so let's not get technical. Twenty-three years, Frank. Twenty-three. Gone. Just like that. Was it worth it?"

Silence. Finally, he was thinking about something other than himself; I could tell by looking at him. I found it pathetic that it had taken until now for him to really consider everything he'd done and where it had led to, but apparently, now, it was happening.

"If I told you it was?" he said finally. I snorted.

"I'd call you a liar. Put on whatever façade you want, I still know you better than you think I do. You didn't want to lose her, and don't think I believe for one minute that you did."

"Things change."

"They don't change that much. Hell, Frank, if you really wanted out of your marriage, you could've just filed for divorce, but no."

"Don't sit here and lecture me, like you're so damn perfect."

"I never said I was. In fact, I'd be the first to tell you I'm not, and I'm not going to pretend to be. If you wanted a change, you could've damn well gone the right way about making one."

"There are plenty of things that are going to change. You might not see it yet, but you will, and when you do, you're not going to like it."

"The department's already told me as much. They, on the other hand, are a lot more diplomatic about it than you are."

"This isn't a game. This isn't just something you can talk your way out of, because it doesn't work like that. Not this time."

"Yeah, and you'd know, wouldn't you? You know, sooner or later, every lie you've ever told is going to come back to haunt you, and then what?" Suddenly I was in no mood to talk, but I wasn't in the mood to move, either. So I remained where I was, and went on. "Tell me something, Frank, does it hurt when you look in the mirror at yourself?"

"Why the hell would it hurt?"

And not for the first time, I wondered who this person was, and what the hell had happened to the partner I'd known all those years ago. Once upon a time, this would have been the last place on earth we'd have ever thought we'd find ourselves. A conversation like this might've been held outside, in a squad room, in an office…at one of our homes. I shook my head at him before answering.

"I don't know. You tell me."

But no reply came. The only thing I could hear through the receiver I held was breathing, and it was strange, because whether it was his or mine, I couldn't tell, and it almost scared me. One squad, one heartbeat, I thought, and found myself thinking back again on earlier years.

An answer brought me back to the present. "You know, you never think one mistake is going to ruin your whole life, and then it does, and suddenly, you look in the mirror, and you don't know who you are anymore. That's what hurts."

"It's a miracle," I said dryly, "You still have a conscience. Maybe even a soul, or am I assuming too much?"

Frank ignored me. "You didn't think it could all come crashing down on you, did you?"

"It's not crashing on anyone. My detective did nothing wrong. I'm not going to let him take the fall for something he didn't do, the same way I'm not going to let the department make it look like I've done something I haven't."

"So what are you going to do, then?"

As if he really cared. I was half-tempted to think that maybe he did, that maybe what I was saying was getting through to him, but at the same time, I doubted it, and I hated that I doubted it.

"I don't know yet," I said. "But then, I doubt you knew what was going to happen on your end, either."

There was silence, again. And unlike before, where I might've lingered for a moment or two, waiting for an answer, I rose to my feet and left, before he could say a word.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Nothing really to say here, so...(leaves)**

* * *

I went home. Actually, I went to the squad room, when I knew most of the detectives would be out, and those that were there didn't say anything to me. I knew they were probably wondering what I was doing, since I'd said I wasn't going to be in again until tomorrow. But being upstate had made me want to come back; I didn't know why, but it had, and so I was there, and for once, the office door was closed.

The phone rang before I had the chance to sit, and I reached for it. Before I could say anything, Angie did.

"Ah, you do remember how to pick up a phone," she said dryly. "Called earlier, one of the detectives told me you said you'd be out for the rest of the day."

And suddenly I remembered that I'd forgotten to inform her of this. "Suppose you'd laugh if I told you I probably have no idea where my cell phone is," I said, and could just see her rolling her eyes.

"Knowing you, it probably died," she said. "You really ought to keep track of that. Where've you been?"

"Out," I replied vaguely, and knew it wasn't going to fly with her. Sure enough, it didn't.

"Well, obviously," she said dryly. "Otherwise, you'd have answered the phone yourself. Where'd you go?"

I wasn't sure I wanted to tell her. But then, if I didn't, it was likely that someone else would assume that I'd gone somewhere I hadn't, and it wasn't a discussion I cared to get into.

"Upstate," I said. "And before I get the lecture, I know it was a stupid move."

"I'd tell you I told you so, but I have the feeling that it would be pointless, as would be a lecture about wasting your time, though I do have to admit that I don't see why you bothered."

"Suppose you wouldn't find it pathetic if I told you I was looking for some kind of answer to all this."

"Probably not. That's the only reason I would've taken the run upstate. The problem, however, is that you didn't get the answers you were looking for."

"Maybe I should've been the one to retire in '02. Seems to me nowadays that it'd have been better if you stayed."

"Nah. I cause too much trouble. Can't ever let things drop and I rarely keep my mouth shut. You know that."

I laughed. "Can't say I don't," I replied. "Though, I suppose you could say that it's among the many reasons why I love you."

"So, if I were to one day decide that I was better seen and not heard, you'd change your mind about me. Nice to know, I'll keep that in mind."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." I trailed off and looked out into the squad room. Most of the detectives had returned from wherever it was that they had been, and I could see Goren and Eames, still working on the current case they had picked up. I could see Logan and Barek, too, finishing paperwork from their last.

"You drop the phone or something?" Angie asked, yanking me out of my thoughts, and I shook my head, before I remembered that she could not see me, because she was in Queens, and I was in Manhattan, and we were on the phone.

"No," I said, "No, I didn't drop the phone. I was just…thinking."

"Do I need to call the paramedics and send 'em over?" came the reply. I rolled my eyes.

"I think not," I told her, "Nothing's happened…yet."

"That doesn't sound good." Angie trailed off, and then sighed before going on. "What's on your mind this time?"

Any number of things. The squad, the current situation, my beliefs in the department, thoughts of a partnership that had once been one of those that other cops talked about, just because it was one of those that seemed to work better than any other. A time where I knew the ones I'd walked the streets with, and a moment from a year ago, in the same squad room I was looking into.

"I think things are only going to get worse from here on out," I said, and knew as I spoke that I was more than likely right.

"So we figure it out from wherever it goes," said Angie. "By the way, I know you heard me talking to my mother the other day. I'm not going anywhere."

"That's not where I was going with this," I told her. "I would think I'd know if you ever did want to leave."

"Sure you would. How d'you know I wouldn't just disappear in the middle of the night, and leave a note on the kitchen table?"

The image was almost amusing. "Great. Now you're going to have me awake all night, just to make sure you don't."

"I was kidding. I wouldn't actually do that. But I do have one question for you."

"What's that?"

"Why'd you go back to the squad room if you told the squad you'd be out for the rest of the day?"

A question I didn't want to answer. I sighed. "You want the short version or the long one?" I asked.

"Whatever version you feel like giving, though I do think the long version's better suited for home," said Angie. "What's up?"

"Nothing, really. I was just thinking about how strange it would be not to have to come here every day."

"Don't tell me you're thinking of doing something that you're probably going to end up regretting later, because I don't want to hear it if you actually go through with it before you really think about it."

I'd expected to hear as much. Truth was, I still didn't know what I was going to do, but with the higher-ups breathing down my neck, I knew I was going to have to decide on something soon, otherwise they were going to do it for me.

"I don't know what it is," I admitted, finally. "It's like I want to leave the squad room, but at the same time, I don't, because it just…feels wrong."

"And to think, you were the one laughing at me when I felt the same way a few years ago," said Angie, only half-joking. "So you don't want to leave the squad room. Then don't."

"Well, you do still want me to come home at some point, don't you?"

"Oh, go on, Jimmy, you know what I meant." She trailed off for a moment and then went on. "It really is coming down to the wire, isn't it?"

"Who've you been talking to lately?"

"Doesn't matter who I've been talking to, though, admittedly, I'm this close to knocking Emma a good one, but there you have it."

I laughed. "I wouldn't go there if I were you," I remarked.

"Yeah, well, you're not me, and she's insufferable. Trade me places one day, you'll see what I mean. She keeps going on about some email, like she actually knows what the hell she's talking about."

The sad thing was that Emma Bardin probably did know what she was talking about. I'd have found it somewhat amusing if this hadn't gotten to where it was, because Emma never had been the sort to pay attention to what was going on in the department.

"Just leave it," I said after a moment. "Ignore her. She can talk all she wants, and I doubt anyone's really listening."

"The rumor mills on the civilian side are just as bad as they are inside the department, and you know it."

"Don't cause trouble."

"Who d'you think you are, telling me what to do?" There was a teasing note in her voice that I didn't miss, and so I chose to ignore this remark.

"I'm not telling, I'm asking, however indirectly," I replied. "Just leave it. Whatever she's saying can't possibly be anything worse than what's being said on this side."

Angie snorted. "Wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you," she said. "You planning on staying at the squad room now?"

"Actually, no," I said, getting to my feet and reaching for my coat again. "I do need to talk something over with you and I'd rather not do it over the phone."

"Well, I don't feel like driving into Manhattan, so you'd better haul yourself back over that bridge."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Two more chapters to go...**

* * *

I did. And she was sitting outside when I got home, wearing a department cap to keep the sun out of her eyes while she read a book. When she heard the car door closing, she looked up.

"And here I was thinking that you'd met someone else," she remarked. I rolled my eyes and came to sit beside her.

"You sound like your mother," I told her. She made a face at me.

"You say that again, and you _will_ sleep alone tonight," she said, closing the book and leaning back. "So, what's so important that it couldn't be said over the phone?"

"Well…" Technically, it could have been said over the phone. But the squad didn't need to know yet, and the door being closed didn't necessarily mean anything.

"Don't 'well' me. You're the one that made it sound particularly important, so out with it."

Under any other circumstances, she might've been impatient about it. This time, she wasn't, and I'd have been even more inclined not to go any further than I had if she had been.

"What would you tell me if I told you that I was seriously considering resigning?"

"Resigning." Angie looked at me with raised eyebrows and shook her head. "I would say that it's the department talking, and not really you. Why?"

"Because I was thinking about it."

Oddly enough, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it did to admit to what had been on my mind for the past couple of days, since the first round with Internal Affairs. But I had the feeling that was only because this was now, and that when it actually came down to it, it'd hurt like hell.

"Say you were to actually go through with this. Would it be made to look like just another retirement or would the hierarchy actually call you out on leaving so they couldn't do anything to you?"

"They can't do anything to me anyway, and they know it. I don't know how they'd take it. I just know that leaving would probably be one of the best things to do at this point."

"So they're really going to take you out of Major Case if this goes through and you don't leave."

"I'm not sure. And I don't want to leave the squad under their terms, because somehow, it just seems worse."

"Well, yeah. It'd be, however indirectly, admitting that they were right and that they finally caught up with you, not that there's anything to catch up with."

"Nice to see you still know how to ignore your mother. What's her take on this, anyway?"

"If you want to know how much I told her off, then I'll tell you. Otherwise, you don't want to know."

"I don't think I want to know." Silence fell. At the end of the street, a school bus stopped, and children got off, running towards their homes. I watched for a moment, and then sighed. "So, what do you think?"

"I think the department needs to shove it. And before I get the politically correct lecture from you again, I know I shouldn't say such things, but honestly…you know the politics is why I left."

"Part of it, anyway."

"Well, what about it made you stay? You hate the politics more than I do; you just know how to deal with it. I, on the other hand, like to shoot my mouth off too much."

"Well, I'm not going to say you're wrong about that."

She swatted at me. "Jerk. You know exactly what I mean." A pause, and then, "I don't know why you're bothering to ask me. The decision is yours to make."

"I'm asking you because it affects both of us. The decision isn't one to be made lightly."

"Of course it isn't. Why d'you think it took forever to decide that I was going to leave? If it was hard enough deciding that one, I can only imagine how hard it's going to be for us to decide that you're going to leave."

"Two weeks' notice." I paused for a long moment and shook my head. "You know, you never think you're going to have to do anything like that, and then it happens to you."

"Well, I'd served 25 years. Stuck around long enough, don't you think?"

"I've served longer than you did, and I just…I don't know. It feels like I'm ready to leave, but at the same time, it doesn't."

"Yeah, well, it's different for all of us, then, isn't it?" Angie pushed back so that we started swinging back and forth as she continued. "I felt ready to leave. Guess I finally just got tired of it all. You, on the other hand…"

"What am I supposed to do if I go through with this?" I asked. "I've been a cop for so damn long, I don't think I know how to do anything else."

"I'm sure you do," Angie said dryly. "It's gotta be in there somewhere; you don't just become a cop without knowing a few things beforehand."

"Obviously." I glanced at a random point across the street, and it was this point that I focused on as I went on. "Did it feel like you were abandoning your detectives when you finally decided to walk?"

"As a matter of fact, it did," said Angie. "I worried about who they'd get stuck with. About who would stay and who would go and what they'd think of me."

"And what happened?"

"Well, I still talk to most of 'em. They all ended up sticking around. Guess no one wanted to leave, even if I did. How d'you think I know the department rumors?"

"Should've known." She'd told me once that she wasn't going to give up whatever links she had to the department when she left, to which I'd replied that if she thought I was going anywhere, she was wrong. We'd both laughed at that one.

"You have to deal with IAD again yet?" Angie asked, and I shook my head. I hadn't had to deal with them, but I probably would, within the next few days. The investigation was still ongoing, and I still wanted it to go away, but now it was starting to look like I would be the one to go away.

"You know, it almost seems like you're a pain in the ass to the department once you've been in longer than twenty years. Like they're just waiting for you to leave."

"Still think this is a setup?"

I hadn't told her exactly the context of the conversation with Frank, and doubted that I was going to. It didn't seem worth it. I hadn't even gotten a straight answer out of him about all of this, all either of us had done was give the other the runaround.

"I'm not sure," I said, even though Angie's mention of the email had brought back a conversation between myself and Goren and Eames. "I don't want to think that it is."

"Of course not. You know, not every cop out there is a good one. I ran Internal Affairs long enough, I think I'd know."

"Don't remind me. I'd rather not associate you with that squad right now."

She laughed. "Don't worry, I won't mention it." She shifted so that she was leaning against me. "You're really thinking about walking, aren't you?"

"I don't see what else there is than I can do without having to drag the squad through the fire. They're already dealing with enough as it is. I don't want to throw this at them, too."

"You're not throwing anything at them. I'm sure if I were to ask any one of them, they'd all be perfectly willing to take up for you."

I knew that. Had known it for a long while, because I'd been told this, many times over, by the squad itself, since this had happened. But I wasn't going to let them take anything that didn't need to be thrown at them.

"I know," I said. "But they don't need this any more than I do. It doesn't make sense to yank them through this."

There was a long silence, broken by the sound of the wind chimes above our heads. It would've been a lot noisier if we'd still lived in Manhattan, like we had in earlier years, before we'd decided that it wasn't particularly where we'd wanted to raise our kids. But now all three of our girls were grown and living in Manhattan anyway.

"They'll probably be around sometime later," said Angie, somehow knowing what I was thinking. "You know them, every Friday, six o'clock on the dot…"

I snorted. "Yeah, right. One of them might show at six, but then whoever isn't there will show up at any time from then to midnight."

"The last time one of them did that, Heather set the alarm off."

I remembered that. First there had been the alarm, and then Heather yelling upstairs, trying to figure out how to turn it off, because somehow, she'd forgotten to turn the lights on, and then there had been the squad cars.

"You can sleep through anything, I swear," I said. "In any case, I doubt whoever shows up last will forget to turn the lights on this time."

Angie laughed and shook her head, rising to her feet. "I'm going inside," she said. "If you care to accompany me, then go ahead. If you'd rather sit out here and mull things over, you do that. But don't be surprised if I come out here and pour water over your head."

It wasn't what I'd have called an empty threat; she'd done it before, and I wasn't going to put it past her to do it again, so I followed her inside.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: One more chapter after this, and then it's over, I swear...**

* * *

Two days after that exchange, I found myself in the squad room again, staring out into it, and wondering what the hell I was getting myself into. It wasn't something that I could go back on, and once I went through with it, that was it. The whole thing was over, and no one would say anything, but the necessary things would be done, and it would be like any other retirement.

My problem at this point was actually getting up and going through with it, because despite the conversations between when I'd first admitted that I was thinking about it and now, it still wasn't something I was sure about. Of course, part of it was probably just my being stubborn and not wanting to let IAD, not to mention the brass, think that they were right. Somewhere along the lines, though, my cares about that had disappeared. And it was for this reason that I got up and went upstairs.

"Don't tell me. You've finally decided to come to your senses and send Logan back out to the island, where he should've been in the first place." Rick Bradshaw's voice was sarcastic, and when he looked up from what he was doing, I shook my head.

"Logan is staying where he is," I replied. "I won't be the one to send him back to the island. This has nothing to do with him, anyway."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I'm not going to deal with this anymore."

"You can't stop IAD's investigation."

"But you can, and you won't, and you're leaving me without much of a choice here."

"What are you saying?"

"That I'm giving you two weeks' notice. That I'm leaving, and that I'm not going to let this get to the point where my squad gets dragged through it."

Silence. I knew this wasn't what anyone had expected. I hadn't expected it myself, but now, there was no going back.

"You sure this is what you want to do?"

"I've stuck around long enough. If this is how it ends, then this is how it ends."

It was going to hit me later what I'd done. I knew this, solely because of the fact that it didn't seem to be having much of an effect on me now, but I knew it would once I was back in the office. Once I knew that after a set amount of time, the office wouldn't be mine anymore, and I would have to find something else to do, after a while.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?"

"I'm tired of the politics. If you can't see this for what it is, then what am I supposed to do about it? I've already been told that I'll lose my squad if I stay."

"That's not what was said."

"Do I look like I was born yesterday? I know how to read between the lines, and so do you. I won't lose them under your terms."

"So this is just you being stubborn."

"If that's how you want to take it." The envelope I'd been holding had somehow made it onto his desk. "I'm not going to tell you one way or the other. But I'm not going to stay."

Another silence. It seemed to have finally gotten through that I was serious, and so Rick finally nodded, and I took it to mean that he knew what I was saying, or rather, that he understood what I was saying. That it was coming to an end, that IAD wasn't going to find what they wanted to find, no matter how hard they looked, that Logan wasn't going back to the island by my hand.

"I'll take care of it," he said, finally. "You should…."

But he didn't need to tell me that I should go back to the squad room, because I was already on my way out the door.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day in what felt like a daze, though I didn't know why, because at the moment, I was perfectly fine with what I had done, but something was trying to convince me otherwise, and it was almost working. So I left, because there was nothing better for me to do, and because the day was almost over as it was. Come tomorrow, however…I was going to have to start telling the squad that I was leaving.

I was upstate again before I realized where I was going, which startled me, because I'd thought I was headed towards home, but apparently not. And suddenly, I found myself exactly where I had been a few days before.

"You know, I'd ask you why you came, but I doubt it's going to do me any good." Frank remarked, upon seeing me. I gave him a look.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," I said, and really didn't, unlike the first time, where I'd come looking for answers I'd somehow known I wasn't going to get.

"Then you're wasting your time."

"I'm not too sure about that."

"You really are as naïve as you look."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you. A lot of things have changed, as I'm sure you're aware of, seeing as you're the one who changed them."

"So you've finally managed to figure that out. Tell me something, what else have you figured out?"

A lot of things, none of which I was going to tell him. Not here, not now. These were things better left for later times, when things weren't as…raw as they were at the moment. And he knew it as well as I did.

"We'll leave it at where it is, for now," I said, finally. "You're getting your way, Frank. Whether this is what you were aiming for or not."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You figure it out."

There was a long moment of dead silence, and then, he smirked. "You're walking," he said, as if this was what he'd suspected all along, which I doubted.

"I'm retiring. Not walking. I've had enough of the games, and I'm done with it all. I suppose I have you to thank for it, but then, seeing as you're the one who got us both into this mess in the first place…"

"Guess you're not as clueless as the rest of us used to think you were."

"And I guess you're even more of an idiot than I used to think you were."

And there it was, back to the old routine of exchanging insults that once upon a time, neither of us had ever _really_ meant unless we were ticked off at each other, and he was annoyed with me, and I knew it, but I didn't care. Somewhere beneath the surface, I was annoyed with him as well, and so we were even, at least on that level.

"Can't imagine what the department's going to do without their golden captain," Frank said, sarcastically, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Wonder what your squad's going to do?"

"Leave them out of this. Your fight is with me, not with them, which is probably why I'm here, and probably why I came the first time."

"Of course it is. The problem with you is that you don't ever want to think about things that way. Tell me something, Jimmy, if this hadn't gone as far as it had, would you even be here?"

"As a matter of fact, no. I wouldn't be here. In fact, the only reason I came up here was because for once, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I'm going in headfirst with no idea where I'm going to end up."

There was a pause. Frank looked like he wanted to say something to me, but before he could, I went on.

"I don't think I'm going to end up here, before you ask," I said. "As a matter of fact, I'm starting to think that the only reason I came up here was because a year ago, I'd have probably been able to go straight on up to Albany without having to detour here. A year ago, I still knew you. And before that, I could look to you for an answer and know that I was going to get a straight one, no matter what else was going on."

It was true, too. He was older, and I'd been a rookie, and he'd been the one to come around before any of the others had, because that was just how it had been. There had been no reason to lie, no reason to get into anything that he'd gotten into, but apparently, somewhere along the lines, he'd found a reason, and now we were here, and I was leaving, and he was already gone, had been gone for a few years now. And neither of us knew what was going to happen.

"You haven't told anyone yet, have you?" Frank asked, when the silence got to the point of being awkward.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I know you, and I know that you're not going to hide something like this until it goes through."

"Like I said, there used to be a time where I knew you, too. All these years later, and look where it's gotten us."

"Yeah, you're walking and I'm stuck in here."

"Don't act like you had nothing to do with this, when you know full well that you did. You don't fool me, Frank. Maybe before, but not now."

Definitely not now. He had no room to tell me anything, and at this point, I probably had no room to tell him anything, either, except for the fact that I hadn't really done anything, and he had.

"What makes you so sure?" he asked, finally, almost tauntingly. "Sure as hell took you a while to figure out what was going on a year ago, even your detectives saw it before you did. What kinda cop are you, anyway?"

"One who's not going to get jerked around over something like this." I rose to my feet, and somehow knew that short of someone dying, I wasn't going to come back. He said nothing, and as I moved to leave, I turned back, for one last remark.

"I'm not a rookie anymore."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: And it's over...probably should have shut my muse up before this, but I like where it ended up, so...here it all is. **

* * *

I told the squad about what I had done before I told Angie, which was, from my point of view later on, anyway, a stupid move, because by the time I got home, she knew about it.

"Thought you weren't going to jump into anything," she said, by way of greeting. I sighed.

"I didn't jump," I replied, dryly. "Believe it or not, I actually thought this one over, and it's done. There's no undoing it."

Silence. There had been a lot of those moments lately, where no one said anything, either because there was nothing to say, or because nothing could be thought of. I wasn't surprised that she wasn't saying anything. She probably hadn't expected this any more than I had.

"Does the squad know?" she asked, finally, and I nodded, before going to sit, turning the chair so that I could still see her, and therefore carry on the conversation.

"Yeah, they know," I said. "Otherwise, I doubt you'd have known unless I said anything, and in that case, you probably wouldn't have heard anything until tomorrow."

Angie rolled her eyes. "Figures," she said, and then, "You're really sure about this, then? Nothing's going to change your mind?"

"Not even you," I said, and we left it at that, because she was usually the only thing that _could_ change my mind when it came to things like this. "I think I've stayed around long enough."

"Your squad will beg to differ," said Angie, in that way that told me she was up to something, but that she wasn't going to tell me what it was. "Don't suppose you took the time to see what they had to say about it?"

"A few of 'em have asked me why I'm 'giving up', as they put it," I said. "Wanted to know why I'm letting Frank win."

"So they know," said Angie. "They know it was him." She trailed off and shook her head. "How did they know?"

"Goren and Eames went looking. Apparently, you and I aren't the only ones who've heard about that email."

"And this surprises you?"

"Honestly, no." And it really didn't. I'd figured the rumors would get around somehow, and I'd been right; they had. "What surprises me is that they'd have bothered to go back far enough to actually tie it to him."

"Don't get me started," Angie muttered, shaking her head. "If you still haven't seen what he's capable of, even after this, and that whole mess last year…never mind. We're not going there."

And there was the silence again. I gave her a sideways look and picked up where she'd left off. "You're upset, aren't you?"

"About you finally retiring? No. I'm just irritated that this could've come out of nowhere and blindsided you." She leaned back against the counter and shook her head again. "That, and I'm just…surprised he'd want to do something like this."

"Once you've gotten to the point he got to, it's hard to go back to the way things were. In fact, you really can't go back to the way things were, because nothing's going to be the same. He screwed up and he knows it, and now…"

"Now he wants to make it look like he's not the only one. Understandable," said Angie, and upon noticing whatever look it was that I was giving her, she went on. "Reprehensible, but understandable."

"Why is it that when so-called heroes fall, they always want someone else to come along with them?"

"Is that supposed to be a rhetorical question, or do you want my version of an answer?"

"Do we need to close our eyes, or can we come in without being scarred for life?"

Our daughters had definitely inherited their mother's brand of sarcasm. The voice was Heather's. Angie rolled her eyes.

"Don't be such a drama queen," she replied. "You can come in. We're decent."

"Didn't need that image, Mom." Heather appeared in the kitchen, followed closely by Katherine and Jamey, who nearly fell over each other, coming through the door leading in from the garage.

"Of course not," said Angie, "You three can finish where I left off, if you wouldn't mind."

She wandered out of the kitchen, and motioned for me to follow her, leaving the three of them without much of a choice. I could hear them 'discussing' who would do what as I walked out into the living room, and then outside, to where Angie had gone.

"This changes everything, you know," she remarked, from where she sat, on the porch swing.

"A lot of things change everything. This just changed what everything was, currently," I said. She gave me a look as I sat beside her.

"And everything currently was what, exactly?" she asked, and I shrugged.

"I'm not particularly sure."

"I didn't think so."

And there was the silence again. This time, neither of us moved to break it. Night was falling and the streetlights were coming on, and both of us were content to just sit there and say nothing. There wasn't really anything that needed to be said.

"You left the windows open, didn't you?" I asked, after a while, and when Angie gave me a questioning look, I nodded towards the house. "We left the girls in the kitchen."

"We did, didn't we?" she asked in reply, and then, "Damn. Knew there was a reason I was trying to get finished before they got here."

The sound of breaking glass coming from inside made both of us laugh, even though it wasn't really that funny. It figured that one of the girls would break something; it happened almost every time we left them to their own devices.

"Think we should go in there and save them from themselves?" I asked, and Angie shook her head.

"Nah. I think they can handle it."

"If they come running out here to tell us the house is on fire, I'm going to remember you said that."

"I'm pretty sure the three of them are old enough by now to know better than to set things on fire. On the other hand, I'm not too sure."

"Better safe than sorry."

"I think we can wait until one of them notices that the windows are open and calls out here for some form of help."

If only it were as easy as that in the department. Technically, it should have been, but this time, it wasn't. Not that I'd have actually asked for it if I'd needed it, which I hadn't, but that was beside the point. Angie poked at me.

"You already know it's gonna take time getting used to," she remarked. "Might as well start trying to deal with it now."

She had a point. My problem was that I didn't want to deal with it. "Didn't seem to take you all that long," I said. She shrugged.

"Well, I might've been close to my guys, but…not as close as you are to this lot," she told me. "It'll take you longer. It's to be expected. But you know, sooner or later, you really are going to have to let go."

"Not completely," I insisted. "This door is always going to be open. It has been since I went in, and I'm not about to change that."

"I hardly expected you to; heaven only knows I've had a good number of cops in and out of this place over the years. I think life would've been quite boring if I didn't."

"So you won't object if one of them decides to show up in the middle of the night, wanting to talk to someone?"

"I should think not."

Hearing that was a comfort in itself, because while I was letting go, at the same time, I wasn't, and I didn't particularly want it to appear like I was. Angie had moved so that she was leaning against me, so I put an arm around her, and we sat there in silence, until Katherine's voice came drifting towards us from inside.

* * *

Two weeks later, I found myself leaving the squad room for the last time, after assigning Logan a desk and telling him to take it before the new guy came around. It felt strange, knowing that on Monday, I wouldn't have to wake up before the sun was even out, to make an attempt at crossing the bridge into Manhattan before eight in the morning. It was a relief, but at the same time, it was a pain.

When I got home, I sat in the garage, for what felt like forever, partly because I didn't want to move, but there was something else there that I couldn't place. I didn't hear the door to the passenger's side opening, nor did I notice that anyone had come out to see what was keeping me until I felt Angie's hand over mine.

"Told you it was gonna hurt," she said, in such a way that she wasn't _really_ telling me 'I told you so', even though I had the feeling it was what she wanted to do.

"Never said it wasn't going to," I said, without looking at her. "Just didn't think it'd hurt this much."

"It'll go away."

"How long is it going to take?"

"I don't know."

I'd half-expected her to laugh at this, but at the same time, knew that she wasn't going to, because that wasn't the reaction I'd had to her moods after she'd retired. Even so, I was tempted to laugh at myself; it seemed ridiculous, but then, it wasn't.

"So, why'd you come out here?" I asked. "You didn't leave anything inside, did you?"

"If I'd brought it all with me, Jimmy, that would mean that we were moving, but we're not."

I laughed. "Your sarcasm will never cease to amaze me."

"You know you love me."

"What would be the point of my being here if I didn't? I see no point."

"That's because there isn't one. Let's not get into the whole semantics thing. What time is it?"

"Why do you care what time it is?"

"Don't worry about it. Just tell me what time it is."

"I'm not going to tell you what time it is unless you tell me why you want to know."

"Don't make me smack you."

"Fine. It's…" I glanced towards the clock on the dashboard. "Quarter to seven."

"And I thought morning traffic was bad," said Angie. "Are we going to sit here all night, or what?"

It was then that I noticed she had a jacket and shoes on. "Are we supposed to be going somewhere? And if so, why wasn't I informed of this?"

"Just drive," came the reply. "Technically, I should be driving, and you should be blindfolded, but I'm not going back inside, so I'll just give you directions and not tell you anything else."

"Why do I get the feeling that I don't want to know?"

"Because you don't want to know. Now let's go, already, we're going to be late."

So we left. I wanted to know, but at the same time, I didn't, so I didn't ask, and the conversation was mostly Angie, since for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to say a word.

"Close your eyes," she told me, when we finally got to where she'd told me we were going, and I looked at her.

"I think not," I replied. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," she said. I wasn't convinced. Half the time, when she said 'nothing', it meant 'something', and she had been on the phone an awful lot lately over the past two weeks. Neither she nor the girls would tell me anything. Deciding to take whatever chances I still had, I did as she'd said, and she pushed me towards the entrance.

"Don't worry, no one's going to jump out and shoot you."

"That's not what I'm afraid of."

"Well, good, 'cause the only one who'd think of shooting you is me, and I no longer carry a gun."

"That doesn't help, Angie."

"Doubt this will, either," she said.

And a split second later, the lights went on, because they'd been off, which had been more than just a little bit suspicious…and there was the squad, all of them. I looked at Angie and she looked back at me, shrugging, and I knew I wasn't going to get anything out of her.

"I don't know anything," she said. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Why does that not surprise me?" I asked, but before she could answer, I found myself surrounded by various detectives, and she shook her head at me, an amused look on her face, before she walked away, to talk to a few others who'd just come in.

It figured that she'd have been able to pull something like this off without my noticing…not that I'd really noticed much of anything over the past two weeks. It was almost funny that she'd bothered, but at the same time, it wasn't. Then again, I wasn't exactly sure what this was. A moment between a bunch of cops, a retirement 'event' without the formalities of the brass…a chance to tell the lot of 'em to stop calling me 'Captain', though I doubted that'd stop any time soon.

The time passed too quickly, and before any of us realized it, it was getting late, and they all had to leave, because they still had to go to work the next day, even if I didn't. And so I said goodbye to every one of them, even though it wasn't really goodbye, because they all still knew where to find me, which might've seemed odd to anyone else, but was perfectly normal to me.

When it was finally just me and Angie, I went to sit, and she reached into my pocket and took the keys.

"Suppose a few of 'em told you I was behind this," she remarked.

"They didn't have to," I replied.

"Figures you'd have suspected me."

"Who else would've set something like this up?" I looked at my watch and sighed. "This makes me almost glad I don't have to go in tomorrow."

"You say that now, but you just wait till the alarm clock goes off, and you get up and get dressed before you remember you're retired."

"Remind me to turn that thing off when we get home."

"It's on my side; I'll turn it off. You ready to go?"

"Not really." But I rose to my feet anyway, and followed her out. It was raining slightly. She watched it for a moment and then turned to me, shaking her head.

"Can't get any worse than this," she said dryly. I laughed.

"No, I suppose it can't."

There was silence, for the most part, on the way home. She turned the radio on before we got to the bridge, more for background noise than anything else. Somehow, we ended up going past headquarters, which I doubted was on purpose, but she turned to look at me, anyway. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, but other than that, I wasn't paying attention.

I was looking towards the eleventh floor, and thinking that while technically, on one level, I was leaving my life behind, on another, I wasn't.


End file.
